a new one


a readymade: east coast 2017

after the wine, a long walk
through crooked streets and straight
under drips of air conditioners high up,
and a subway grating’s fetid breath on my legs 
decaying villages at midnight, greenwich and not
fused into a fungal growth of cobbles and asphalt
black trashbags slick with urine, and the homeless
cats slumping around, pouncing on scuttling things
a waiter squinting through the burn of his cigarette
his unembroidered favela dense with grandiosity
the squalor of history patinating its present
design and darwin choking each other
new york to a californian.


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